Stellar
by KiwiBug94
Summary: Truely and her family haven't been the same since her sister was killed in the 64th Hunger Games. But nothing prepares them for the 68th Hunger Games where their family is torn apart again. Based off of The Hunger Games series comes a story another tribute who seeks the vengeance for the Capitol's cruelty after what has happened to her family and if she lives, she may see that day.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I wake to Denalee screaming. I'm startled and am up quickly, knife in my hand. It was my bad habit to sleep with it by my side at all times, but it had come in handy on three occasions. One was with an intruder. He came to steal our food supplies, because he and his wife were starving. Lucky for him I was groggy and only got him in the shoulder. Another time, I heard a rabid raccoon trying to attack our goat and having the knife handy made it so we were able to save her. The third time was not too long ago when a wild dog found its way into our room and I was able to kill it before it attacked my baby sister, Beluna. Three times, my family practically treated me like royalty, when really, I was just thinking quickly.

I run to Denalee's room, which he shared with my other brothers, Toby and Bresnen. Toby is already on his feet, Bresnen rubbing his tiny eyes, when I finally reach Denalee's bed side. He's panicked a little, breathing heavily. "What's wrong, Lee?" Toby almost sounds mad when he asks. I would be too, only I suddenly am sad. I remember what day it is, and I can't blame my brother for being scared. He's only eight, but he still remembers what today means.

"Toby," I say quietly. "It's today." I sit on Denalee's bed and wrap my arm around him.

"I just always see her on the day she died, and I'm scared I'll have to see it again." I know he means Constance. I know he means the day she was killed in the 64th Annual Hunger Games. It was only four years ago, but it's fresh in all of our minds, who are old enough. The youngest three don't remember. Bresnen was only two at the time. Camille was only a few months old, and Beluna had only recently been conceived.

No. Denalee has every right to be frightened. Today was reaping day for us. It was another chance for another one of his older siblings to be plucked up by the Capitol and sacrificed. Constance was only twelve, two years older than I was, when she was reaped. She made it past the initial bloodbath, but that meant there was extra time to watch one of the Careers cut her up until she died. Being the only death at the time, she was the center of camera attention. We all saw every second.

In District Nine, where we live, we're not usually winners. We could be off worse, like those in District Twelve, where half of their kids are starving to death. Although, we're not like the Career Districts, One, Two, and Four. They train and usually always get enough to eat. For those in Nine, we tend to barely get by. We go hungry sometimes, but we never have to starve. Well, most of us. We have our own poor people. And many do starve. But I have heard from and seen the kids from District Twelve, Eleven… The ones where there never is enough for much of the population. Comparatively, we're spoiled.

In Nine, we have a part of the district called the Spine. This is our poor location which unfortunately is over half of the population. I have heard some nicknames for other districts' poor parts. Like Twelve. They have theirs, called the Seam. Ours is the Spine, for two reasons. The first is that it literally runs up the middle of most of the district. Two, this is where most of the workers live. And ironically, the workers are the ones struggling most.

In District Nine, our industry is grain. We don't actually start working it until we're fifteen, though. We learn about how important it is, where it goes, and basically the general idea, but we never get firsthand experience with it until fifteen. Unlike kids in District Seven, where they work with all the tools of lumber from early on. We have grain fields all over our district. The homes and shops are almost all in the areas where the Spine is. Although, they stop calling it the Spine once it gets towards the lowest part of the district. Then it's just called the Village. The homes, the shops. All are a part of the Village. There, they never hunger. Ever.

With kids from the Spine, there are hardships. It used to be that the fathers and mothers would go out to work in the fields to try and feed their families. But the trouble is, there are so many people in the fields that they cannot pay the workers properly to feed the families. So they started people in building and repairing the factories that took care of the crops, where people were used to help pack and get the grain ready for shipping. But there are so many people, these new jobs made no difference. So then they made it law that only one person per household could work in the fields. It usually is the father. This became a hardship, for many families had mouths to feed, and the loss of the second income, even if meager, meant less money, which meant they would starve.

The solution came in pieces. Some women took on the jobs of making the things the men would use to work. Everything from straw hats to their uniforms, even making the boxes that grain was packed in. The Capitol agreed, mainly because everyone was starving to death and they didn't want that. This process took years and years to work through, but by the time my parents were working, it was stable and efficient enough. But for my family, it's never enough.

My parents have had eight children. One was killed in the Hunger Games, the Capitol's horrible punishment for the rebellion in the Dark Days. One works as a mechanic's apprentice until he is able to go out in the fields. That's my brother, Toby. Though, they might just keep him as a mechanic in the factories. One less field worker, and not many able to handle the mechanics part. He turns eighteen in six weeks, which will mean he will find his permanent job. The six other children range from three to fourteen. Only three old enough to get tesserae in exchange for putting our names in more times for the reaping. Ennetta, my younger sister, has only just become old enough. For her first reaping, her name is in ten times. Mine is in thirty times this year. Toby has his name in fifty-eight times. Even though the escorts always say, "May the odd be ever in your favor," they never are in my family. Constance had her name in ten times her first year.

The tesserae helps. It keeps us from starving, since my father only earns enough money for a week of our family's needs in a month. My mother has a sewing business and makes linens and clothes and such, all things needed, but cheaper than the Village's clothes shop. The tesserae make up for what my father and mother cannot provide for us. Toby pitches in what he has, which has helped a lot. Now, we don't starve. Usually. There have been months where the money is short, not just for us but for all, and we cannot always feed the little ones. Toby and I skip our portions to help feed them and our parents. They all need to stay strong.

The lucky thing about District Nine is that the electric fence around us is broken up. You'd be crazy to try and go into the lands outside, but it's never needed. My family lives at the top of the Spine, closest to the fence. We get wild animals all the time. This helps us get food. We're allowed to kill the animals as long as it is in the boundaries of the district. In times of need, this is exactly what we pray for. Whether it is a wild dog or a wild turkey, we hope it ventures in so we can have our chance at claiming it. Since I am the one handy with a knife, I usually do the killing.

My family laughs at my little place. I'm small for my age. Ennetta is already my height and still growing. But this has always been useful. I have been quick up a tree if trouble finds me. Quick on my feet. I can outrun anyone and easily tree myself. I don't mind the trees. Nice protection. But at school, it was a problem. No running. No trees. But bullies became a problem. Always tried to rough me up. But bless my father's soul, he found out how to keep me safe.

When I was seven, he taught me how to handle knives. Now, I keep one with me at all times. Between protection and hunting, it's useful. And I'm allowed, as long as I never use them on people at school. I only had to once before people stayed clear of me. And honestly, it was one of the most treasured moments of my life.

I was ten and in the play yard when Xander came to me. He was three years older and twice my size. He wanted the raccoon pelt in my bag that I was going to sell after school. All it took was one punch for me to pull out the knife. He laughed. I threw. I have precise aim. Down to the centimeter. I threw it so it would barely miss him, but fly by his ear. If he had turned his head, it would have killed him. But he didn't, but he wet himself in fear as the knife almost stuck him. People didn't mess with me after that.

After my quick and precise learning of skills with a knife, my family became aware that I can pick things up quickly. I'm what my father calls the little robot. Take time to teach me and I'll get it down pact in no time. Like my mother's quilts. It took her years to learn the complex designs. It took me three weeks. I take her place in sewing and such after school to help her when she needs to tend to the children. I'm faster, anyway. But show me anything, I'll have it down. I'm already handy in many things, though I'm almost too young to claim to do any of it and actually earn money for it. The only thing people in District Nine know me for is my skill with a knife, mainly because of the game that I can be reliable to kill in one throw.

I shake my head dreamily. I had almost forgotten I was still here, with Denalee. He was still shaking, afraid. But after a while of sitting there, he is calm again. He sighs. "I hope no one we know goes this year."

I nod. I can't help but hope the same. I'm worried about the three in my family who can go. Toby could easily be reaped this year. And I can, too. I know for a fact that Toby has his name in more than any other boy in the district. The next largest family consists of six children, with a mother now deceased. And even then, there were a couple years where tesserae weren't needed to be taken out by all the children eligible.

I glance out the tiny window and see the early rays of sunlight. I sigh. Might as well get up. "Okay, you two," I say, looking from Denalee to Bresnen. "You go get washed up and such so Mama doesn't have to nag." I wait until they leave before I turn to Toby. "What do you suppose?"

I see a flicker of fear in his grey eyes. "All I know is that the odds are not in our family's favor." This is true, of course, and not just because Constance was reaped four years ago and killed. She was not the first in our family. My mother's older sister was reaped, too. And so was a cousin of ours, Henston. Both were killed. Having family reaped doesn't protect you. In fact, the only safeguard a victor has is that they are never reaped once they have won. But their siblings? Cousins? Children? All of them are likely to be reaped if their name is in enough.

I sigh. "You don't think one of us could be picked, do you?"

Toby shrugs. "Let's pray not. But if one of us is…" He doesn't say more, but I'm scared. Two girls and one boy. If Toby was reaped, he'd have to go. Not that he wouldn't be okay. He's opposite of me. He's nearly six feet tall, thin but strong and built. But there's a chance that my little sister could be reaped, and that would be awful. Ennetta has always been somewhat sickly. She catches things quickly and is not very strong. Even though she is already growing taller than me, and quickly, she is nowhere as strong as I. She'd not even make it past the Bloodbath.

"Toby, if Ennetta is reaped, I'm volunteering."

Toby gives me an alarmed look. "What?"

"You heard me," I say, somewhat annoyed. But then I frown. "I can't watch another one of my sisters die. Not when I could have saved her. Not when I know I have a chance. Maybe."

Toby looks me over then he laughs. "Well, I suppose you could stand a chance. Miracle Baby always seems to get by."

I smile at this reference. In our family, we all have little pedestals, or labels as some would call them, where we are placed in the scheme of things. Beluna is the Sorrowful Hope baby, since she was born after Constance's death and was what brought us back together. Camille is the Bookworm, because her intelligence exceeds her age by years. Bresnen is the Endurance Child, meaning both physically and mentally, he endures longer than us all. Denalee is the Crafty One, because he likes to invent and create things. I learn things quickly, but Denalee can make things, from weapons to boats, tools to inventions to keep out the mice.

Ennetta is the Art Wonder, because she can write stories and music, paint just about anything, and is our own little decorator. Constance was the Social Butterfly, because everyone who knew her loved her, and she always was everyone's friend. Her death deeply disturbed everyone in our district. Toby is the Foundation Child, because he does all the things as the oldest to keep us all afloat. He sacrifices everything to make sure things work out. And me? I'm the Miracle Baby.

It seems almost self-explanatory, but not really. At first, it is. I was born seven weeks early, and I should have died. I was born blue and not breathing. But my father took one look at me and had said, "No. I know she is going to be okay." Since I was born at home, he was the doctor. And he pumped air in my tiny body, while Toby and Constance were sitting huddled together nearby. After a few minutes, I had gained color and started crying on my own.

My mother had asked, "Is the baby truly crying? Is that really her?" Toby and Constance had been smiling and answered her with shouts of joy, "Truly!" My father had smiled and for some reason liked the sound of the word 'truly', but to make it more unique; they added an 'e'. I became Truely Alina Stellar. My family liked to also describe me as 'true starlight', because essentially, that's what my names meant. And it seemed suiting and appropriate that during the night after I was born, my family sat outside and was able to see all the stars stretched out before them. The stars had never been so bright before, and they knew then that I was their Miracle Baby and that my name was perfect.

But then I started to grow up, and my label became more suiting. Though I was small, I was talented. I was supposed to have some brain damage from birth and other such things, but I thrived. I've done well in school and been able to manage most tasks either with practiced experience or surprising natural ability. I've tapped into most other's specialties, while acquiring my own. Like climbing. But being how I'm two inches shy of being five feet tall, and barely tip the scale at ninety pounds, flying into trees isn't hard. It's a miracle I can do all that I do.

I give a sigh. "I wish this was your last year, Toby."

He nods. "Me too. But it's okay."

"No, it's not. You already have more names in than anyone in our district. Next year, you're going to have even more. The odds aren't in your favor at all."

Toby shakes his head. "No more than you, Truely. By the time you're my age, your name will be in a good six times more."

I scowl. "Who cares about me! The family needs you, Toby."

His eyebrows go up, defensive and a little peeved. "And it doesn't need you? Truely, you help bring in just as much, if not more money. And you make the kids feel safe at night." He's nodding towards the knife still in my hand. "We're both important. I can be just as worried, if not more, about you. I already had one little sister die. I'd lose my mind if I saw it happen again."

This leaves me silent again. But after a while, I just sigh. "Then let's hope none of our names are reaped today."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everyone! Please read and review! Your feedback means the world to me and helps me out so much! You guys are great!**

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Chapter Two

I let my mother and father sleep in. Toby and I cook breakfast for the kids and such. Mother wakes to the smell and joins us, and just as I'm about to get up and clean Camille and Beluna of the breakfast that didn't make it into their mouths, my father enters and sits down. We're all very quiet. Even little Beluna understands the significance of today.

While the little girls are being cleaned up, I let Ennetta bathe first. When I'm finished, I find her a nice first reaping outfit and decide on a beautiful light green dress with white lace that used to be mine. It was the one I wore two years ago and it would probably fit her. It was still a little big on me, which would mean being more fitting for her. I find myself a dress a deep coral color with golden colored sash and hemming. It makes me look older than I do normally, which is about eleven, but I still don't look my age. Even still, I sigh and settle. Though I am fairly developed like most fourteen year olds, I am so tiny people forget I am fourteen.

Ennetta finishes and I bathe too. My mother must have just refilled it with hot water because it's still warm. I'm thankful for a warm bath instead of a cold one. But I hurry before it turns cold, making sure to try and scrub most of the dirt off of me and out of my hair.

I get dressed and decide to turn my attention back to Ennetta. While my hair dries, I turn to hers. In my family, you either had perfectly straight hair or beautifully curly hair. Beluna, Denalee, and I are the ones who take after my father's curls. Everyone else has, or had in Constance's case, my mother's sleek straight hair. I decide on French braiding Ennetta's, while entwining lace in it. I artfully put a small white Queen Anne's Lace flower in the side, and it looks beautiful. She thanks me, though it doesn't hide her fear.

I look at my hair and think. It's almost the same color gold as the sash on the dress. So, I dig until I find a role of ribbon the color of the coral of the dress. I twirl the sides of my hair so it almost looks like a crown and then weave them together at the back of my head, tying them with the ribbon in a beautiful bow. I examine it and find it to be very flattering and smile. My hair isn't exactly curly anymore. It is if you crop it short. Beluna's is short and spirals nicely. Denalee's is always in tiny ringlets on his head that make him look adorable. But mine, being long and full, is more artfully wavy. So maybe I lied. I'm the exception with the hair.

When I head out to the living room, everyone is dressed, ready, and waiting there except for Toby, who bathed after I did. He follows me out shortly, though. My mother gives us a terribly sad smile and hugs me, Ennetta, and Toby tightly. My father does the same. Then everyone just looks at us sadly, afraid.

"You all ready, then?" I can tell my mother is close to tears. Not only is it almost four years since Constance has been murdered for the world to see, but she knows very well that one of her remaining children could be the next one to be reaped, and most likely killed.

"It'll be okay, Mama." I'm the strong one for this. I know Ennetta is terrified out of her mind, and Toby is having trouble swallowing the chance that he or one of his two sisters could be reaped. The odds of one of the three of us being reaped is so high.

My mother smiles at me. "Of course it will be." But I know she is still scared.

We automatically look at the clock and see that we need to be at the village within the hour. We decide to start heading there, since we're the furthest from the Village and still need to check in and reach our positions. I pick up Beluna, who is fond of me, and hold her in my arms. I see Ennetta holding my father's hand, Camille his other. My mother is being held onto by Toby, who has Bresnen's hand. Denalee has our mother's other hand. And we walk like this in silence for most of the way, until we can start hearing the crowd.

"Truely? Will you come back home tonight?"

I am struck by this question. "I hope so, Loolee." Beluna smiles at her nickname that only I have the privilege in calling her. She seems satisfied by this answer, but I glance over at Camille who meets my gaze and a tear falls down her face. I know she knows that one of us may just be reaped. And I know that she understands just exactly what that means: death.

When we reach the square where we wait in front of the Justice Building, I hand Beluna to my father. They all hug us and wish us good luck and then depart. Toby, Ennetta, and I slowly head to the table where we check in, to find that most of the kids have already checked in. My eyes travel to the platform, where I see the reaping bowls filled with tiny slips of papers. In one, forty of the names are of me and my sister. In the other, fifty-eight belong to Toby.

The Justice Building is looking better than ever, though. It had been repaired a little over the last few months. It's scrubbed clean and the whole square is decked in festive banners. Too bad they signify death. Otherwise maybe I'd think it was a holiday, just like the Capitol tries to make it seem. But by the time you reach school age, you understand that this is no day of celebration. It's a day of dread.

Toby gets through his line quickly and heads to go stand with the boys. I wait until Ennetta is done before we start walking towards where the girls stand. I deposit her in the back with some of the other twelve year olds, and then I head forward until I find my friend Greta. She's a fairly small girl, too, with straight strawberry blond hair. She smiles at me as I join her. "You ready?" She doesn't seem too worried. She only has a little brother and her mom, so her name isn't in there more than twelve times.

I shrug. But then to my surprise, I answer in a way that's foreign to me, but at the same time, I can't help but know that what I say is true. "I could be worse. I just don't want Toby to be reaped. I can't watch him die. They can call me, I don't care. They'll get a fighter. But Toby? Yeah, sure, he'd have a chance, but he's not the born fighter. I've fought for my life ever since I was a baby. It's in my nature."

I see Greta's face fall. "None of us want you to go, though."

I shrug. "I'd rather it be me than him."

Greta really looks cut up. "You don't think you'll be reaped… do you?"

I stand quietly for a few minutes. "Well," I say slowly. "If Constance could get reaped with less than half of the names I have in there now, then I am more than sure that at some point, I'll be reaped too." It's funny how I dread it, but I expect it too. Leave it to the Capitol to make life hell from the moment we take our first few breaths of life.

Greta sighed. "I'm already worried about Rowen, and now I get to be worried about you?" I'm caught by surprise. That's right. Rowen… He's another one of my friends. He, Greta, and I are practically inseparable, and whenever our friend Freddie isn't being a snob, he's in with us too. But I'm not worried about Freddie. He has never signed up for tesserae. His name is only in three times. And we all are a little resentful for it.

But Rowen is different. He's one of the poor families, like mine. But the thing is, his father died, and his mom can't work because she is always so ill. Rowen has four younger siblings left alive. Three have died. Two from starvation, one from a terrible accident. But not before Rowen had taken out tesserae in their name. For two years. It's odd, how all three died within the past year.

My heart gave an ache for Rowen. His dad had died right after the baby was conceived, and only seven months before the first of his children would die. Little Paiten was only six, but the food ran low, and they all were starving. But he just got sick and his tiny body couldn't take it. Then eleven, almost twelve, year old Edith was attacked by wild dogs that were rabid. Between hunger and terrible wounds, Edith was gone in a matter of hours. And then, a few weeks later, Jamyra died from starvation, too. She was eight. Now, Rowen is the oldest of very little kids, who his mother can barely manage. The tesserae are all they can afford most of the time. His mother's brother moved in with them a few months ago, to help bring money in to the family in return for a place to live. That stopped the kids from dying.

Rowen was still great. Quiet, a little sad at times, but great. He always tried to smile. Always tried to see the bright side. But he was very self-sacrificing. And we were scared, for the longest time, that if he ever got in the arena, he'd pick someone he thought worthy of protecting and die for them. But for his family, this wasn't an option. Thankfully, he knows this and would never volunteer. But still. What if he was reaped? He wouldn't be able to kill anyone…

This thought disturbs me. Could I kill someone? Would I? I suppose I'd have to. But when you grow up with the games, it all feels so distant. Unless it's someone you know on that screen. Constance was the only realistic one. The only one where I consciously knew how people were dying and killing. Especially when that somebody was my sister…

I shiver. "Greta, whatever happens, I hope you know you're my best friend. I love you so much. And Rowen. And Freddie, if he's not being a jerk." We give a chuckle at Freddie's expense.

But then she smiles. "And the same for you." We stand there awkwardly for a minute, one thing eating at the insides of our brains. Who was going to be reaped?

The time came too soon. Too soon when little Capitol escort Deidra Lymona comes out in a flurry of excitement. She's sporting a painfully bright yellow tailored skirt and jacket with giant flowers pinned over her heart. Her hair was a shocking bubble gum pink done up in ringlets so tight that it was impossible to tell how long her hair could be. Her lips were blood red, and her face was plastered in makeup that I couldn't really tell if she had colored eyes at all. She was in six inch heels that were as pink as her hair with similar yellow flowers on top as the ones pinned on her jacket. I could hardly look at her.

Deidra sits down next to the mentors our district has. Only three. Two men and a woman. The oldest of them is Roger Flemming. He's surly and doesn't really care about the tributes anymore. He's seen too many die. He's only in his late fifties, but between drink and what I assume must be a morphling addiction, he's wasted and ill looking. Then there is Nymal Riviera. He is in his late thirties. I just remember that he's a little quiet but he just gets frustrated when tributes don't try. They let it get to them.

The girl tribute I know no more about, though I know her personally. She's in her mid-twenties. She barely made it out of the arena. I just know that she and the runner up were both, technically, fatally wounded. The other just died faster. She was seventeen, I think, when she won. Her name is Miriam Temme, and she was the mentor for my sister. She had helped train Constance well, for she was the fifteenth person to die. She had made it to the final ten. But no one could doubt the fact that Constance didn't stand a chance of actually winning. She was too kind. She was in no way lethal. And the other nine were. But Miriam had taught her how to avoid the struggles, and she lived a few days longer…

The three mentors are dressed nice enough. But they look grim. They get to relive their times in the arena by watching almost every kid die. Roger has brought back one on his own, a second with the help of Nymal. But they usually just get to bring home dead bodies, bled out or mutilated. It's never a fun job, being a mentor. You just have to hope they pick someone who has the fight in them.

The mayor comes out. Mayor Redford is a portly man in his late forties. He has two daughters and a son. Two are grown. One is not. His son is our friend Freddie. His oldest sister has only been out for a few years, his sister Yvonne only this past year. But Mayor Redford always is deeply saddened by the sacrificing of such young souls for crimes that happened decades ago. But he is required to give his usually speech about the Dark Days. I've seen it and paid attention for easily ten years now, so I tune it out.

It's not until Deidra is up talking into the microphone in that awful Capitol accent that my mind focuses in. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" We all slightly groan at this saying. No, the odds are never in anyone's favor. District Nine never goes without feeling the pain or loss of the tributes each year. And the accent! Like sending kids off to die isn't horrible! But the Capitol people are so oblivious, not even having to question whether their own children are at risk. Because they never are.

Deidra goes on her little spiel and I'm looking through the crowd when my eyes find Rowen's. I give him a sad smile and he rolls his eyes and then jerks his head towards Deidra. I give him a significant nod. Then we turn away, because Deidra's about to read the name… The girl's name.

She makes a big production of it. She flourishes her hand and wrist about, making it look like she's trying to perform magic instead of just getting a stupid name from the reaping bowl. But at last, her hand plunges in and pulls out a name. My heart races. I feel so much dread, such a knowing feeling… And it's not until she reads the name out loud that I know why.

"Truely Stellar!"

It's my name… That's why.

The walk up to the podium is long and shaky. Mainly because of what's going on around me. I hear Greta give a horrible gasp, hear several people around me say unintelligible remarks of reaction. I swear I can hear the little ones crying out. Little Denalee, Bresnen, and Camille crying out in the horror, knowing. Hear my mother sobs. My father's utter disbelief. I try not to take much in, but I notice how Rowen looks at me in alarm, how the Mayor actually looks like crying, since I'm his son's good friend. The unjust confirmation that this tiny girl is either being sent off to die or to become a killer. I see that in Miriam's eyes. And I also see recognition. Because she knew a Constance Stellar…

Though I walk slowly, I keep my head high, my face emotionless. I keep calm. I don't want any person underestimating me. As much as I have dreaded the possibility of this, I have also thought about what would happen if I did get reaped. I could win, if I was just a little lucky. I was already good with knives. I was somewhat skilled in hunting. I could move fast and climb like a pro. And I learned quickly. I could maybe have a shot…

As I get up the small set of stairs, Deidra is there to pull me to the microphone to wait for the male tribute. My heart is racing as I stare out at all the people who have come to know me. Even people like Xander, who detests me, know the significance of this. There's a strong chance my parents will lose their second daughter to these horrible games. No one is happy about this loss.

"Very good! Look at this brave young lady! Now, time for the boys!" Her voice trills off high up in the stratosphere as she makes her way to the boy's bowl. I'm too shocked over the last few moments, for I have just found my family in the sidelines. I can see my parents comforting the crying little ones. My heart aches… It's going to be a horrible goodbye. But then I notice Deidra coming back and I have a moment to glance at her before she reads the name. And for the first time I think in the history of the Games, an escort reads a name with an expression different than excitement. Her tone is utter surprise. But she still reads it with a smile.

"Toby Stellar!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter. I have a few chapters already written and I get off of school soon, so hopefully there won't be much waiting in between. Please please please please review and let me know what you think. I'd love to hear your feedback! It means the world to me. You guys are awesome! Happy reading!**

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Chapter Three

The crowd managed to stay somewhat quiet for my name, as much as they didn't like it. But this? The crowd cannot hold in the shock. I hear what must be my mother, giving a horrified cry, the children crying out in shock. And then I register Ennetta's quiet and often unheard voice. "No! No, this can't happen!" I find her in the crowd, and some of her friends have knelt down beside her, because she obviously has collapsed. Even I had let out a bewildered gasp. But it's not until I see my older brother walking up the steps that it registers in my mind. My brother is coming with me.

I turn to the mayor, fear flooding me. I want to ask if this is even allowed, but he is crying. This can happen… In the games, no one is immune. Not even a brother and sister going together to the Games. I'm starting to break down, the noise of the crowd overwhelming me. No, this can't… This can't be real!

My eyes find my parents and siblings again. My mother… She has one guaranteed death sentence for another one of her children. And who's to say not both? The horror of it… Over the noise, Deidra makes herself known. "Well! What an interesting turn of events!" She steps back. "Alright, shake hands you two!" I turn to Toby and see he's trying not to cry either. He knows that at least one of us is going to have to die. What on earth are we going to do? I want to cry, but I don't. I hold on. We shake hands and before I know it, Deidra is ushering us into the Justice Building.

Like any year for the tributes, Toby and I are separated. My family gets to see Toby first while any other visitor comes to see me, and then it will be reversed for Toby. I sit there, trembling for however long before the door opens, and in comes Greta. She comes to me and hugs me for the longest time. Then we separate, and she's crying. But I can't. I try to bottle the tears, knowing that the cameras will follow me once I leave this room, and tears are weaknesses.

"Greta… I… I didn't really… I can't…" I'm trying to hold it together.

"Truely, please promise me you'll try and win."

I look at her, my heart aching. "But Greta, my brother! I can't let him die!"

"No! Truely, you fight! Fight until the very end, do you understand? Don't get yourself killed just because your brother is there. One of you is going to die, but don't let yourself die, okay? Fight, just like you said you would."

I bite my lip. "I don't want to live in my brother's place, Greta."

She sighs. "Truely, you might not have a choice. Just don't stop fighting. Not ever."

I frown at her. "And what if we're the only two left. What then? Do I just kill my brother, Greta? What do I do then?"

Greta is silent for a long time. "Let's just hope neither of you have to deal with that."

I don't like this. Not a tiny bit. I don't want to die, but I don't want to live in my brother's place. If I have the choice, I want him to come home. But I stop talking about it to Greta. "Fine. I'll try." It's the best I can do, but it has to be enough because a peacekeeper is coming in to take her away. I give her one last hug before she's gone. Before _I'm_ gone. And probably forever.

I am alone for all of two seconds when Freddie comes in. He can't stand it and apologizes for being a jerk. He gives me a hug and wishes me good luck, and tells me that he's rooting for me. Then comes Rowen, but the look on his face is awful. We hug for a long time. "I'm sorry," I say.

He pulls away and looks at me. "Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry?"

I bite my lip. "You've lost enough people these last few years."

Rowen gives me a stern look, one so unlike his normal bright, smiling one. "Truely, you're going to win. I know you can. I know you've got your brother. But really, he's not a killer. Well, neither are you. But you're a fighter. Toby is a protector. You know that between the two of you, you've got the advantage in just about everything. You just fight as hard as you can. Keep your head. Remember everything you've learned, and you'll be fine. You can do this."

I look at Rowen and frown. "I can't let him die, though. I can't… Not after Constance."

Rowen frowns at me too. "And you think Toby is going to let another one of his little sisters be killed by the Games? No. Not in a million years. If you weren't in the arena, he'd probably go to protect another younger girl or boy who needed help. He'd never expect to win. Like I said, he's a protector. Not a fighter. You protect too, Truely, but you'll fight first. You are always fighting for something. And I know at first, you'll be fighting to protect Toby. And maybe, when it doesn't work, you'll fight for yourself. But I know you'll fight. Because you know those little ones can't bear to lose a brother and a sister."

This thought alarms me. If I don't try to protect myself too, we both could die. And Rowen is right. One of us needs to come home, because otherwise my younger brothers and sisters are ruined. And so are my parents. Toby and I have to fight to the end. Even if I have to force Toby to try, I will. And I think he will, as long as I'm alive. This just keeps getting more and more complicated. "Fine. I'll try. And if I don't you can kill me." The joke is a little crude, but Rowen thaws a little.

But then the peacekeeper is there, telling him he needs to leave. I'm alone for a couple minutes before the door opens again. In comes my parents and five younger siblings, all red eyed and sobbing. My sisters reach me first. I give them each a hug. Then my brothers. Then my father. And then, at last, my mother. When we break away, Beluna is whimpering for me, and I pull her into my arms. She was my little sapling, as I liked to call her, meaning that she was the closest sibling I had. Mainly she was the one who I tried to keep with me at all times. Sometimes, she'd even crawl into bed with me. Now, she'd always be sleeping alone.

I look at my parents, tears threatening to escape. "I'm so scared. I don't know what to do."

They nod in the horror of it too. "Just fight, baby," my father says. "One of you needs to come home to us."

I nod. Then I'm just hugging them all, telling them how much I love them. And before long, it's time for them to go. I give them all one final hug and kiss, one last "I love you" and then they're gone. Gone, and they will never see one or both of us again.

Then my mind starts going fuzzy. I just recall seeing Toby and then we're being crammed in a truck to the train station. At the station, it's packed with people. And the train, the one that I've heard goes so fast, waits there like a mouse trap, ready to send us off to death. It's not until Deidra has us herded onto the train that things register. Like how everything inside looks like a dream.

It's carpeted in a stunning blue, the walls a glowing gold color. All the tables are made of fine wood, topped with marble. All things metal are a bright, dazzling silver. All the seating arrangements are modern and plush, the same color as the walls, trimmed in the same blue as the carpet. There are baskets of fruits I know I've never had, drinks in crystal containers, cakes and pastries that look like they cost more than my family makes in a week. Things we'll never have again, unless we win. And there's only going to be one winner…

"Come sit!" Deidra's enthusiasm is a little tiring, but we let her guide us to an arrangement of couches and chairs. She settles us in one couch, next to each other, and settles herself in a chair across from us. "Soon your mentors will be here and it will all be splendid!" As she says this, the train starts moving. I can hardly tell, though, aside from the fact that the district is starting to disappear outside of the window.

"How long does it take to reach the Capitol?" I ask in a small voice.

Deidra smiles. "Less than a day! We'll pull in sometime tomorrow morning." I see Toby stiffen next to me. Our time alive is slowly ticking away. I hate thinking only one of us will even have a chance to survive, and the other won't. But at the same time, one of us needs to live. We can't let our parents bury two children…

I hear the door open and my heart stops. In comes Roger, Nymal, and Miriam. Roger staggers a little, a bottle of a purple liquid in his hands. It's probably one of the Capitol's fancy liquors. Nymal walks close to him, as if to catch him if he falls. Miriam watches, uninterested. But then she glances at me and I quickly look away. I can't stand to meet her eyes.

The three settle directly in front of us, since Deidra gets up and moves off to the side. "Excellent!" She is very excited, practically bouncing. Her pink ringlets bounce in an alarming manner, but always seem to zip back tightly to her head. Toby is watching her bounce about, exhaustion in his expression. I wish Toby was the enduring one, like little Bresnen. He's going to need it. But already, Toby seems overwhelmed. "Well then, let's have these wonderful mentors introduce themselves!"

Roger starts, already wanting this to be over. He tells us everything I already know, but his voice startles me. It's suiting, because it's harsh, booming, rough. But he doesn't even sound like he wants to try and help us. Nymal sticks to basics too. But his voice is softer, a little warmer. As if he cares, even just a bit.

Then Miriam is next, but she's not talking. I look up and see she's staring at me. Then she sighs and does her end, introducing herself. Her voice is very maternal like that it sooths me. The more I look, the more I can tell. She's a beautiful woman with amber hair and deep brown eyes. Her face is soft and sweet. She is truly caring, but I can tell it is painful watching two children she comes to know, and probably care about, go and die.

We're quiet for a while. Deidra seems distracted with her flower and doesn't pester. But there's a nagging thing in my brain. About Miriam. After a while, I have to speak it. "You mentored Constance, right?"

A terribly sad look rises on her face. She nods. "Yes. I did. And…" She looks away from me. "I'm sorry. Not just for you. But for your whole family."

I feel guilty, now. I know that she wanted Constance to live, and she probably did all in her power. "It's okay. I know you helped her more than anyone could know. She did make it into the second half. She made it past the bloodbath. She'd have been okay if… if he… If he wasn't tracking her." I believe it was a Career from District Two that tracked her, because she had escaped the bloodbath, and once he had her, he slowly killed her.

Miriam nods. "She learned a lot. She just… Never saw him coming." I nod. I give a sigh and look down at my hands. Then Miriam's voice causes me to look back up at her. "You two favor each other in many ways. In appearance, I mean. I didn't have to even hear the name to know you were her younger sister." I nod sadly. True, Constance's hair was straight, her eyes the same grey as our brothers and most of our sister, and our father. And true, my hair was wavy, my eyes brown like our mother's. But Constance and I? Our hair was the same shimmering gold. Our faces were almost identical. At the time that Constance was reaped, she couldn't have been more than three or four inches taller than I am now. We looked so much like twins, it was incredible.

Deidra shifts uncomfortably in her seat. "So! Tributes! Why not introduce yourselves properly?"

Toby frowns. "They already know who we are."

Deidra falters for a second. "Well… I suppose. How about, then, you wash up for lunch?" It wasn't a question. It was more an order. She smiled as we got up, though we weren't enthusiastic. "Excellent! I'll show you to your rooms."

We follow her down the hall of the train until she stops at a door made of an expensive wood. "This will be for you, Truely. In, in!" I turn the sparkling silver knob and am herded in and closed into a room that probably cost more than our entire home and its belongings. The bed was big enough for all of my sisters easily. It had golden blankets, the same color as some of the rich grains we grow. The room is paneled with the same expensive wood as the door. Strange paintings hang on the walls, making me feel uneasy.

I go to a chest of draws and find a change of clothes. I decide on a soft sweater the color of lavender and dark, clingy pants. I take them into the bathroom off to the left, which is huge. The shower is big enough to fit a half dozen people, made of the same sparkling silver. I quickly shower, letting myself soak in the hot water. Then I'm dried by some strange contraption. Feeling somewhat invaded, I grab the change of clothes and dress in the new clothes. Then I pull back my hair into the same weaved hair style I had, though I exclude the ribbon this time. When I exit, I almost run straight into Toby.

He gives me a startled look, but calms when he looks at me. Then, without either of us really thinking, we hug. I feel safe in my brother's arms, even though I should feel uncomfortable because I am a good fourteen inches shorter, easily a hundred pounds lighter. I'm absolutely tiny compared to him, but he just wraps me in a bear hug for a long time. When we break away, he gives me a small smile. "Let's go face them," he says. I can only nod.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again! Here's the next chapter! Please read and review! I'd love some feedback on how you all are liking it, what should improve and what's good so far. Also, story ideas are welcome too! Anything works. You guys are great!**

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Chapter Four

We find the mentors and Deidra at the table, being served lunch. "Ah! Come and join us!" Deidra is as perky as ever. We both sit in the two empty seats. I am right next to Miriam, I find, with Toby next to Nymal. At first, I feel tense, but find that I should just get used to it. I'm going to be in so many uncomfortable situations that it's not worth worrying about.

The lunch is more extravagant than anything I have ever seen, let alone had. I expected, maybe, fancy sandwiches. But no. There is a whole roasted bird that I don't recognize in the middle of the table, surrounded by baskets of rolls, dishes of fruits and vegetables that I've probably never tasted. The one slightly familiar thing there is a grain dish we call Muscle Meal. It's a hearty golden grain that is usually in a rich, savory white sauce. There's usually hearty vegetables and bits of foul in it. It's our festivity dish, and something we get once a month. It replenishes our nutritional needs because of its sustenance and helps workers keep pushing on in the fields.

I fill my plate, ready to eat well. I know Toby is thinking the same: put on weight. I gravitate more towards the Muscle Meal and the bird in the center, but take a roll and a few spoons heaped with a colorful vegetable dish. I dig in and am overwhelmed by the taste. The bird is juicy and glazed with a tangy orange sauce that compliments it. The vegetables are flavorful and the roll is sweet. Even the Muscle Meal is more savory than I'm used to. I eat until I am stuffed, thankful that the richest food is something my body is already pretty accustomed to. Toby eats two and a half plates, while I barely manage one full one, and one meager one. But we're both agreed that even a second helping will help make us stronger. They don't call it the Hunger Games for nothing.

After lunch, Deidra looks at the clock and smiles. "Ah! The recap should be playing any minute now!" She herds us into a sitting room, where she flips on the television. They're currently holding an informational session about the history of Panem and past Hunger Games. Things they show every year.

After a half hour, the conference is over, and there is Caesar Flickerman, ready to give the details of all the reapings. He is sporting a new color this year. It's the same color purple as my shirt. Lavender somewhat suits him, though it looks like he hasn't been breathing, because even his lips are brushed purple. But of all the people involved with the Games, Caesar is my favorite, because he always tries to make the tributes shine. He doesn't always call for the blood. He is the least disgusting of them.

I don't really listen to what he's saying, but watch the reapings. The first two districts are Career districts, and suiting this, the four tributes that are drawn are young but replaced by volunteers. The girl from One, Deity I think they said, is stunningly beautiful, but large and fit. She is built with strength, her face and hair hiding the sadistic killer she will become. Her companion is a boy who looks to be built like Toby, though he has bleach blond hair. He has a smirk on his well sculpted face that makes me shiver.

In District Two, the girl, Shimmer I believe her name was, has flowing black hair and eyes almost as dark that do, indeed, seem to shimmer. She looks menacing, though, as she replaces a fifteen year old girl who can't be much bigger than me. Shimmer is easily five and a half feet tall and built similarly to Deity. The boy, Dante I think, is huge. Well over six feet, broad shouldered with muscles to spare, and arrogance in his expression. He already looks deadly.

In Three, it's much more subdued. A girl is called, who looks about my age, though taller, but no one volunteers for her. She looks scared and fidgety and even lets tears escape on screen. I see her looking at two girls in the crowd who must be her sisters, because when the camera shows them, they have the same features as her as they cry. The boy looks older, medium height and sandy colored hair. He looks shocked, but takes it silently. I think their names were Hana and Evenet. But they are all starting to run together.

Then it's to Four, the other Career District, though no one volunteers for the two picked. One is a sixteen year old girl who is beautiful, but she smirks mischievously as that district's escort calls the boy's name. The boy called must be seventeen or eighteen. He's as tall as Toby, but a little stronger looking. And he doesn't seem to mind being called.

Then it's District Five, which breaks my heart. A little twelve year old is called. I remember her name only because she's the youngest one so far. Shelley. Her hair is red in tight curls, her face spotted with little freckles. Her eyes are a brilliant blue. She is probably as small as me, which makes me sad. She looks like she could be ten, max. The boy called up after her is a mousey boy who is probably only a couple years older. He looks almost as frightened as Shelley.

In Six, I am still a little lost and distracted by the two young tributes from Five. I vaguely recall two older kids, though shocked at being called. But I don't remember them being weak. I'm just coming back after District Seven's girl is up and their escort is announcing a boy, Barten. He has to be almost eighteen, if not already. His district companion looks easily like she could be eighteen.

Then it's on to Eight. The girl is very tall but has a face that makes me think she is fourteen or fifteen. Then a boy named Julius is called, and he can't be a day over twelve because he is so tiny. I hear a boy yell something, and then he runs forward, volunteering. By looks, this is the little boy's older brother. It's then that I notice the braces on the little boy's legs. He'd not last two second in the arena. The older brother, who is likely to be eighteen, goes up and introduces himself as Trident.

Then we're in District Nine and my heart is pounding. I watch as my name is called. I feel better as I see myself walk up. I am clearly shocked, but I am also determined. I look brave. Then I hear Caesar make comment on how I'm the little sister of Constance, and how this must be a huge shock for those in the district and the Capitol. The camera finds my family, crying and alarmed. But when it focuses on me again, I look strong. Then Deidra is reading the boy's name, and chaos erupts. The camera notices my reaction first. The first flicker of fear, but quickly drowned by what looks like anger. Then the cameras find Ennetta, who has fallen to the ground in horror. Then it's to my parents, completely washed out by tears. Then it flicks here and there, catching the shock. Caesar is constantly talking, the shock not able to escape his own voice. A brother and sister, being sent for the games together…

It lingers on our district longer than any other. But then, it's quickly turned over to District Ten, where a thirteen year old and a fifteen year old are reaped. Then we're on to Eleven. The two tributes there are emotionless, numb. Right in the middle of the age field. Though, they look much like those who come from districts like Nine, Eleven, and Twelve- the notorious 'starving' districts. They are thin and look like they've never eaten a decent meal in their life.

And at last, it's in Twelve. It seems to be completely covered in the black soot of the coal. Everyone looks thin. Oh, so thin. I watch as two very thin kids from the Seam are called. I have learned the look of Seam kids, with their dark straight hair and grey eyes, olive looking skin and frail, thin bodies. They aren't hard to decipher. The girl only looks to be my age, though she is taller and has a hollowed look to her. The boy is probably sixteen, thin as a bean pole. I only remember that his name is Ash. It makes me think of the soot and I shudder.

Then it's over and I sigh. It seems like such an interesting batch, but at the same time, I know there are mainly kids older than me. Bigger than me. Stronger than me. The odds are not really in my favor at all. Especially if there aren't trees in the arena. If there are, maybe I can stand a chance. But knowing the Gamemakers, this would be the very year there were no trees.

I'm lost in thought for the rest of the afternoon, listening to Deidra go on about the tributes from the other districts. Then it's dinner time. I don't really feel like eating, but I force myself to gorge on pulled pork, a creamy soup with clams, corn, and potatoes, steamed vegetables, more rolls, and this savory pudding. After dinner, they bring out a dessert. It's a white, fluffy cake covered in rich whipped cream and strawberries. After that, I feel almost sick. I've eaten more in two meals than I usually do in four days back home.

I sit quietly at the table after I finish, trying not to really think about what Deidra is talking about. It stresses me a bit. But after a while, we're excused to do what we like. Toby and I make a silent agreement to go and talk. We go into his room, which is almost identical to mine. I sit on his bed, pulling my knees to my chest. He starts to pace, somewhat distracted. But soon I grow tired of watching him. "Toby?"

He stops and looks at me, then he gives a nod. "Sorry. I'm just thinking."

I frown at him. "No kidding. But of what? You can talk to me, you know. I at least understand the severity of this whole situation. I know how it feels, too."

Toby looks stung by this comment but I don't care. "Not really, Truely. You don't. You don't know what it feels like to know that you're going to die, and the only two things you have left to hope for is that it's not gory for those back home to see, and that in my death, it ensures you survive."

I roll my eyes, annoyed. "Oh, so you get to be the noble one and die? What if I wanted to be the one to die so that you live?"

Toby shakes his head. "No one is losing another sister."

"No one is losing a brother! Toby, Mom and Dad are losing one of us for sure, do you really think it matters which one it is? You're the oldest, their first child. You have one of the most special parts in their heart."

Toby chuckles. "Oh, and like Miracle Baby doesn't? Truely, I'm not really any use to them. I have to move out to work, and even if I don't, I'm no more helpful than you. You pull you weight twice over. You mean more to those kids than I do. We already have almost lost you once. I won't let them lose you now."

Angry tears sting at my eyes. "Toby, I'm not letting you die."

Toby shrugs. "You aren't letting me do anything. But all I know is that the only thing I care about in that arena is keeping you safe and alive until I can't any more. You have to win. And I'm going to make sure you do."

I'm frustrated, now. "Who knows if I even stand a chance? What if I get killed in that bloodbath and I die? What then, Toby?"

He sighs. "Then I guess I'll try. But you know me. I don't want to kill." I do know this. I've always known it. And everyone is right. Toby is a protector, not a killer. Not that I am, but I'm a fighter, and if that means killing, I'll probably do it. Only if I must….

"I hate this," I whimper. Toby sits down next to me and wraps his arms around me.

"I know. I do to. But you can win this, Truely. You can. And you will if you pay attention, keep your head, and remember who the enemy is." This alarms me. Not because of what he says, but what I think. I don't think of the other tributes. I think of the Capitol. Aren't they the real enemy? It's their fault twenty-three of us die every year. But I don't say this out loud.

We sit here for a while before I realize I'm tired. I tell Toby I'm going to bed and he doesn't keep me from going. Within minutes, I'm changed into soft and warm pajamas and tucked into bed. The sheets are just as soft, the mattress plush. I quickly fall asleep, temporarily relieved of the horror my life is now surrounded by.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter. Please read and review! I need some feedback so that I know I'm headed in the right direction! Thank you all so much!**

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Chapter Five

I wake up and decide it must be around eight in the morning. I throw on a dress I find. It's a light spring green color that flows with my every movement, hanging down like a rippling curtain of silk. I brush out my hair and work it into an intricate bun high up on my head. It looks beautiful, and the effect is lovely, but it doesn't seem to take away from the fact that today is when all the hype begins. Tonight it is the tributes parade, and that's just the start. It just goes on and on after that.

I go to the dining area to find everyone there except me. Though, most have just started in on an elaborate breakfast. I feast on eggs with meat, cheese, and vegetables in them, fresh fruit, pastries with various spreads and fillings, and sausages that are so juice, I constantly have to be wiping my mouth. I eat two plates before I am stuffed and can hardly move. I sit back, heaving a huge sigh. It's then that I notice Miriam smiling at me.

"Smart girl."

I frown. "What?"

Miriam laughs. "You're a smart girl. Put on some weight. It took two days for Constance to get that. But I see that is your first plan of action."

I smile, now. "Yeah, it is. I'm going to need a little storage, I think." Miriam and I laugh at this. Then things go quiet again. I'm about to get up and curl up in one of the chairs when it goes dark, like night.

"Oh! Already here!" Deidra's voice startles me, but more because I know what she means. We're at the Capitol. I get up and go to the window where Toby has just gone to. And within seconds, the darkness is lifted, and we're in a train station filled with the strangest group of people I have ever seen. All are dressed in absurd costumes as Deidra sports, their hair, skin, faces, and bodies altered by dyes, tattoos, and other things.

The next few minutes are hectic. No, more like next few hours. Toby and I are taken to be made over, separated almost immediately. I am whisked to an isolated section in a giant place that I never really get to look at. My prep team then greets me, totally bubbly. "We were so excited to actually get an interesting one this year!" a large woman squeals. She has short hair, the most vivid color of lime. Her skin is the color of the inside of a peach, her arms tattooed with strange symbols in red ink. Her eyelashes are huge, the same red color as her tattoos.

Her two companions are a little less overpowering. The other woman is thin, her skin a rich brown color. Her hair is dyed a crimson color with streaks of gold going through. On her arms, she has only one tattoo. It's a name that seems to create images, but I never have long enough to look to see what it says.

The man is on the chubby side. His hair is bright blue like the sky. It's in a bowl cut that almost goes over his beady black eyes. His skin is a sickly yellow color, but aside from this, there is nothing extraordinary about him. Over time, I learn their names are Ortega, Lynita, and Trentor.

Immediately, they strip me, and then scrub me down. Over the next few hours, they start by removing almost all the hair from my body, which is a horrible and painful experience. Then they go down to the little details, like making my nails a beautiful and uniform shape, plucking eyebrows, trimming my hair, treating my skin and hair so that they look healthy. They go on and on until they beam and decide that Frandle can see me. I assume he is my stylist.

I quickly put my robe on after the prep team leaves. I don't like sitting there, naked. The robe is like paper, but it's better than nothing. I sit for about ten minutes before Frandle walks in. He's a strong looking man. He has a dazzling smile and I can't help but return it. He's fairly young, maybe in his late twenties. His skin is a natural, rich tan color. His hair is ink black, curled in a boyish way almost. But he has strands that look like actual gold has replaced the cluster of hair. He has black tattoos all up his arms, but he is dressed in clothes I'd probably find back home.

"You must be Truely Stellar. What an awesome name," he says in a deep voice.

I smile. "Kind of unique, but it's always been suiting for me and my life."

Frandle smiles, then waves his arm. I stand up and he makes a gesture to have me remove the robe. It's really awkward for me, though I try not focus on it. But it was easier with the prep team, seeing as they are always more like little pets than people. At least, to me.

After a while, Frandle nods. "You can put the robe on. Now, follow me." I do as he says, and we end up in a small office that looks out at the rest of the Capitol. Frandle pushes a button and a platter of food appears. I can see a bed of wild rice, but I'm not sure what tops it. It's a green sauce with chunks of dark meat. Frandle motions for me to eat, and I do. And a lot, too. We eat silently for a while before Frandle gives me a look.

"Well, tonight's the parade, and I think I know exactly what you and your brother are going to be wearing. And I think it will suit you well." I'm about to ask what he means, but he shakes his head. "You'll see." We finish lunch and he leads me back to the room we were in before. He sets the prep team on to my nails, makeup, and hair, while he goes to probably find my outfit. Or make it. I never know what they do.

A few hours later, apparently I'm ready. Frandle has me getting into an outfit, though I'm forced to have my eyes closed. I feel the last minute touches before he gives a satisfied grunt and says, "Open your eyes, little star."

I open my eyes and try not to gasp. Everywhere, I'm the color gold. In fact, from far away, I'm like a stalk of grain. One of the gold ones, though there are many in our district. The outfit goes to my feet, but flares out occasionally, making me look like a giant stalk. My hair falls in waves, but it's almost hard to see its golden color because my skin has been dusted in the same color. Even my eyelashes are painted gold. I smile, because I seem to shine. I shine like a little star. I giggle, because I know that Frandle has found a little niche for me. And I like it. For once, District Nine doesn't look completely ridiculous for the parade.

It must be time to get going, because Frandle and the prep team start to escort me away. We walk a while until we're at the bottom of the Remake Center. It's essentially a giant stable. At first, I'm surprised. But then, I realize that this must be where the trained horses are kept that pulls the chariots. Frandle guides me to a chariot somewhere in the middle, where I find Toby waiting with his stylist and prep team. Frandle smiles at the woman and says, "Meet my partner, Shanna." I shake her hand with a smile.

I see Toby is dressed like a golden stalk of grain, though he wears more of a toga than a dress, in my case. But he too is powered down with the gold dust. I even find it in his hair, which makes it look more golden. "Looking good, Tobes."

Toby laughs. "And same to you, Truely."

We stand there for a bit, awkwardly, before suddenly, the music is blaring. It's time to get in the chariot. Just as this happens, Roger, Nymal, and Miriam emerge and smile at as. "Looking good, District Nine," Nymal says with a kind smile. Roger gives a gruff nod, but Miriam just smiles warmly.

They help Toby and I get into the chariot, where we stand rigidly. Miriam looks at us for a minute before she sighs. "Truely, try and look confident. No matter what happens out there, okay?" I nod, almost confused. But then I realize that I must look terrified. I try and hold my head higher, squaring my shoulders. Miriam smiles. "That's my girl. Now, go knock 'em dead."

Just as she says this, I realize that all the other chariots before us have just about left. Now, our horses start pulling us out of the Remake Center, out towards the City Center, and soon towards the Training Center. I can hear the crowd going wild. I clench my teeth together as we emerge, expecting to be ignored again. But then I hear a few shouts of "District Nine!" They must remember the drama from the reaping, of how me and my brother are tributes together…

I don't really register much, except for the fact that I hear a lot more attention than usual for our district. I'm not sure if it's all just from the reaping, though, that has caused them to finally pay attention to us. I catch a glimpse of us on the giant screens and see that we do look quite good, both of us slightly glowing. Well, me more than Toby to be honest. We look better than most tributes from our district do from other years. Adding the drama to the mix probably is giving us a lasting impression. But that's good, because that could mean sponsors…

After what feels like ages, we're stopped and President Snow is addressing us. He "thanks" us for our "sacrifice" and wishes us a "happy" Hunger Games. And then, not soon enough, we're in the training center and everyone is greeting us. They congratulate us for looking good and for sticking to our parts, whatever that means. And then they're ushering us to the elevator, to speed us up to our floor.

We're on the ninth floor, which is designed beautifully. It's almost identical to what was on the train, and I feel somewhat comfortable here. Deidra makes her presence known, then, and orders Toby and I to clean up and get ready for dinner. I sigh in almost relief as I'm led to my room, which is bigger and more elaborate than the one on the train. I look through the clothes quickly and find a pale pink top and a pair of black pants that hangs in silky curtains. I take the outfit to the bathroom, where I experience the strangest shower ever. There are more dials and buttons here than I could ever try in the few days we're here, but I try a few and manage to find a sweet pea soap that covers me like a giant, fluffy blanket.

When I am dried and dressed, I go out to the dining area, where I find Frandle, Shanna, Deidra, and the three mentors already seated. I quickly go up to the landing where they are seated and settle in the empty seat between Nymal and Frandle. The table is loaded with many foods that I have never seen before. I fill my plate with a little of everything and am half way finished when Toby finally shows up. He settles in the chair between Deidra and Roger. He fills his plate as well.

The adults chat for a while, talking about their impressions from the other tributes and stylists. I only half listen because I'm more worried about finishing my second heaping plate of food. I already feel like I have gained weight, but I know I cannot stop. I know that the more weight I put on, the better chance I have of lasting longer in the games. But eventually, Roger intrudes on my lack of interest. "So, I have heard rumors that we aren't just dealing with a midget and its brother," he says crudely. I can see Miriam give him a look.

"Meaning what, exactly?" I can't keep the fire out of my voice, because even though I'm small, I hate being called a midget. But this makes Roger laugh. Actually laugh.

"See, you're more than you let on, little girl. I hear you're a force to be reckoned with."

I shrug. "I was just born a fighter." After everyone, except Toby, gives me an odd look, I plunge into the story of my birth. By the time I'm finished, they're nodding thoughtfully.

"So, now is a good time to tell us your skills."

Miriam looks to Toby first and he tells it honest and true. "I'm a protector. I'm pretty strong, but I tend to be more self-sacrificing than anything. All my strength comes from protection. I can be crafty, mechanically speaking. But otherwise, I'm unremarkable."

I see the mentors frowning. Finally Nymal sighs. "I'm guessing that your strategy is to keep Truely alive?" I scowl at this but Toby nods. "Well, then that's one step closer to our approach. So, Toby is playing protective older brother, yes?" The others nod. Then Nymal turns to me. "But what about Miss Truely? What angle for her?"

I look away, not sure what to say. But then I hear Toby laughing. I look up at him, curious. I'm not the only one. "The question you should ask is whether we play her off for the role she really is. Because I think we should mask the real angle of Truely until she's really in the arena. Well, aside from the Gamemakers."

Roger has perked up by this. "Whatever do you mean?"

Toby gives me a look and I know that he knows that I'm going to be ticked off by whatever he tells them. "Truely is very small, yes. But she is lethal." The others give a confused look of shock at these words and I scowl even more, directly at Toby. "She can climb a tree faster than a squirrel. She can run faster than anyone I know. She's a speedy learner. She'll probably become handy in just about every station there is to exist. But all of these are nothing to what she can do with a knife."

Roger is looking at me, now. "What can you do with a knife?"

I give a look at Toby and decide to just be honest. "Anything I want it to do." They're puzzled by this so I sigh. I give Toby a look and he grins. He gets up and dips his finger in a think gravy and walks over to the far side of the room. He dabs it on the wall and then returns to his seat. Everyone is puzzled until I get up and grab hold of my knife. I look at the tiny dot several yards away for only two seconds before I'm throwing it. Deidra and Shanna shriek at this, but no one else reacts until a few seconds after the knife sticks beautifully into the wall. Roger gets up and looks at where the knife has hit. Then he's laughing.

"Well I'll be damned! Right on the dot. Well, isn't that something." He turns to me, a grin on his face. "Can you attack more than just walls?"

I nod, but it's Toby who speaks. "The greatest kill she did was when a deer wandered into the district near our house. It was easily a hundred feet away when she threw the knife. Hit the thing right between the eyes. Brought the thing down faster than a bullet would have. It never takes more than two knives for her to kill something. Never misses. Her aim is down to the centimeter."

I feel all the eyes fall on me. Then Roger is laughing again. "Well, never expected this tiny thing to be able to even hold a knife, let alone be able to kill with it. Yes, I think…" He trails off, staring at me. "You both know tomorrow you go to start training, yes?" Toby and I nod. "Good. Well, here's what I want you to do.

"Toby, I want you to practice combat. Nearly all the time. When you take a break, learn some herbs or something. But I want you doing fighting skills. But, if you excel easily in something, don't continue. Save it for your private time with the Gamemakers. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Toby says.

"Good. Now, you." He points at me, chuckling. "Truely, you aren't to touch a single knife while you're in there. Not until you're with the Gamemakers. Learn knots. Herbs. How to light fires. Finding or building shelter. Archery. Camouflage. Anything that keeps you away from combat. If you run out of everything else, practice things with swords or something. But do not touch knives. And if anyone asks, just say you're afraid of them."

"Tell them they make you think too much of Constance," Miriam adds and the room goes quiet. I'm looking at her, never really realizing that it was, indeed, knives that ultimately killed my sister. But I wasn't afraid of them. Knives protected me long before they killed my sister. "This will also make them think you're weak."

Roger nods. "You need to look small, childlike, easy prey. Don't let your fire show until you're in the arena. Be sweet, innocent. But, I think it'll be safe to throw in fighter later, for interviews. But we'll get there later. Good. Well, now we have a plan. We'll talk more tomorrow."

Just then, Deidra chirps in. "It's time to watch the parade!" We knew she was unhinged by my throwing the knife, and the prospect of walking away from knives in general eased her. I couldn't help but laugh as Toby winked at me. Maybe I could stand a chance…


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again! here's the next chapter! I hope you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing this! Please read and review so I can know what's going well and what needs improving. Thanks so much!**

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Chapter Six

The recap of the parade wasn't really anything special. And before I know it, it's time for bed. I change into soft pajamas, fall into bed and am asleep faster than I would have expected. When I wake, it's because Toby is shaking me. "Time to get up for breakfast, so we make it down to training on time." I nod as he gets up and leave. I wash up and change into the outfit I find laid out on a dresser, which consists of pants and a mahogany colored t-shirt. I pull my hair back into my weaved style again, because I like it and then head out to breakfast.

At first, we all eat silently. I feast on the food, still wanting to gain some weight. But then Roger shakes his head a little. I know he hasn't stopped drinking, but he seems somewhat sober. "Okay, you two." He goes over the plan again, and we confirm it. After we're set, he takes us down to where all the tributes gather to start training.

It's terrifying, seeing my components in person. All of them are taller than me. Most of them have more weight on them in proportion. Many of them look deadly. All but one tribute are out to kill me, or at least want me dead. But some do look just as scared as I do. My eyes rest on the girl from District Three, Hana. She looks frail and easy to break. My heart aches, knowing most of us will be dead in a few weeks.

After a while, the head trainer, Atala, gathers us and gives us the breakdown. Basically, we're free to do anything but engage in fight with any other tribute. Simple enough, right? We're released, and that's when I sigh. Toby obediently goes over to combat to practice fighting and such. I look around and decide to learn how to make a fire.

The morning is slow going for a while. After I master fires, I go to shelter. Then it's time for lunch. Toby and I sit together and eat. Then it's back to training. I dedicate half of the remaining time to knots, where I learn a lot. The instructor is happy that I spend time here and that I pick up so much. Then I try camouflage. I decide to quit when I find I've made it so my arm looks like a patch of golden wheat.

I'm just starting in on weights when our time is up. Toby and I head back for dinner, briefly talking about our progress afterwards. Then it's off to bed, where I find I'm having more trouble sleeping.

The next day, there is a line for the archery and plants station. I pick to wait for archery, only to regret it. I can see the fierceness of the Careers. All of them are dealing with swords, knives, arrows, spears, maces, and other deadly objects, and they are good at what they do. Too good. I try and focus in on the other tributes and find no one is remarkable at what they are all doing.

Once I get my hands on the bow and arrow, I find I'm not shabby. A half hour of practice later, I'm pretty accurate, assuming my target doesn't move too much. I think I'll stick to knives, though. After I finish, we break for lunch. Then, I'm off to plants, where Toby joins me. "I'm tired of swords right now," he says tiredly. We spend the rest of the day here.

That night, I'm kept up for several hours, thinking about how deadly the Careers are. Not because they necessarily look deadly, but because of their skills. Each one is handy in at least one deadly weapon, and even though I'm good at knives, I have nothing else really going for me. Nothing I can depend on. I can't assume I'll get knives and be able to use them. And it scares me how easily I could be killed.

Right as I feel like I have just fallen asleep, Deidra is waking me once more, telling me it's the final day of training. This also means showing off my skills to the Gamemakers. I'm nervous, mainly because I'm not sure I'm all that good, stacked up to my competition. But I take a deep breath, grit my teeth, and get on with it.

I decide to try and learn some skills with a sword and spear. I spend no more than an hour here. Spears are essentially like knives, only harder. I miss a few targets by a wide berth. But then I go to swords, thinking I'll just be worse. I learn some basic moves and find that it's actually quite simple. One of the trainers does a fight with me, and I end up showing promise. I might have a second option, even if it is weak.

I then go over to archery again to try and improve a little more. It's here that I finish training, for lunch is called. And after lunch, tributes start being called in privately to be watched. For the first time since my name was drawn, I hardly eat. I just sit next to Toby, staring at my plate. He seems nervous too, but he actually eats. Not like he hasn't decided his own fate. But this grey area for me? So much pressure. Almost like there's this expectation for me to win, and the odds are definitely not in my favor.

They start with the boy from One, which I learn is named Vascal. The names from some districts seem so weird. Vascal. Deity. Shimmer. Dante, the boy from Two, at least has a normal name. I try tuning out the names, but then I hear the girl, Hana, from District Three called and can't help but look as she timidly makes her way to where the Gamemakers are. I try again only to be pulled back when twelve year old Shelley, from District Five, is called. Again when Trident, the boy who volunteered for his young brother from District Eight, is called. And then the next thing I know, Toby is called. I look at him, fear obviously on my face.

"Truely, just keep you head. You can do it. Okay, sis?"

I nod. "You… You too, Toby." He smiles and nods before quickly going to the door to take him to the Gamemakers. I get to wait fifteen minutes before I hear them call my name. Heart racing, I get up and walk. But I try and look confident. Try to look strong. But it only lasts for a few seconds, because once I'm in the room, the number of Gamemakers causes me to shake. O only let myself be weak for a few seconds before I shake my head, take in a deep breath. I need to do this. I need a good score!

I warm up by tying some knots, throwing some spears, shooting some arrows. More of them are watching me, a little bored. But then I get an idea. They need to know I can climb… I shoot an arrow way up high, so that I have to climb up some nets to get to it. I set down the bow and run quickly to the ropes and climb, almost like a squirrel, up until I have the arrow. Then, I make my way down. The whole thing takes all of twenty seconds.

But then I know it's time. I need to get to the knives. I go over to them, grabbing all I can and back as far away as I can from the targets. This act alone causes more Gamemakers to concentrate on me. Some are even shushing the others or pointing me out. Most of the ones not looking at me were focused on a buffet table, heaping with food. This prospect seems to anger me. Which is just what I need.

In less than a minute, a dozen knives are stuck into their dummies and targets. Each one hitting one of the bull's eyes. On the dummies, there are two: one on the head and one on the chest. By the time the last knife goes dead center, every set of eyes is set on me as I go and retrieve them and go again. Same result. When I retrieve them a third time, I find new targets that have a clear point of precision. I go through two more rounds of this before the Gamemakers finally speak up.

"Thank you. That will be all. You may go," they say. I retrieve the knives, put them back with precise hands, and then turn to them.

I know it's a little stupid, but I'm still angry. "Thank you for your undivided attention," I say with a mock curtsy. And then I turn swiftly away.

I don't let my mind leave, though, until I am up on District Nine's floor, where Deidra, the mentors, Frandle and Shanna, and Toby all are waiting. Then I realize that I could have just done something very stupid. But I shake my head. I won't think about it. It's not like they can do anything to me worse than what they already are. And hey, maybe they'll like the fire.

"Come, sit!" Deidra is giving me a smile that's grotesquely bright. But I do as she says, sitting next to Toby.

"How'd it go, you two?" Roger looks stern, almost worried.

"Well, it could have been worse," Toby says. "Most of the time, they weren't even watching me. I felt so unimpressive. But I managed to throw those spears within inches of the bull's eye every time. I was able to throw around the heavy weights, too. But I just don't think they watched long enough to see."

Nymal gives Toby a reassuring smile. "That usually doesn't affect your score. As long as some are watching, then you still stand a chance." He turns to me. "And what about you, Truely?"

I wait a few minutes, thinking about my performance. It must have been good… Right? Eventually, I sigh. "Is it a bad thing if all the Gamemakers were staring at me?"

The group is silent for a minute, no one saying anything. Then most of them burst out laughing. Roger is the one who speaks first. "No, girl. That's not bad unless you were awful. What happened in there?"

I recount how at first, most disregarded me. About all the things I did. How by the time I had knives in my hands, they were staring, because I had backed from the targets so far. How their eyes never left me as I threw, and hit, every single target spot on. But then I hesitate. "The only thing is… I was a little rude."

Miriam frowns at me. "Rude? In what way?"

I sigh. "After they dismissed me, I put up the knives. Then I got sarcastic and "thanked" them for their undivided attention. And I gave them a mocking curtsey. But I only did it because they let their stupid feast interfere with what they were supposed to be doing! What about those kids who don't hardly stand a chance? They're taking our lives! The least they could do is just pay attention and watch us for however long we're there, trying to make sure we aren't killed as soon as we step off into the Games!"

Everyone is quiet for a while. Deidra is aghast, I can tell, but she doesn't say a word. Everyone else is quiet because they agree, I think. Finally, Roger says, "Girl, you have guts. I don't think they'll mark you down. Knowing that you have a little bit of temper will only encourage them to mark you high. They need drama, and someone with even a flicker of temper is more entertaining that the fearful one who will just accept that what happens, happens. You challenged them in a small way, which is going to make them interested in what you'll put into their Games."

Everyone nods in agreement. "We'll see tonight, anyway," Shanna says with a smile. After that, we talk about what we think everyone else will get. But none of us know more than the fact that the Careers are likely to be getting nines and tens out of the twelve points possible. We chat for about an hour before it's time for an early dinner, so we can watch the announcing of the scores. We eat a wonderful dish of this roasted bird in and a lemon sauce, with many accompanying dishes that are so delicious. Having not really eaten lunch, I feast on more than my usual amount. I finish two whole plates before I let myself give up.

Then we're off into the living room, where we watch some coverage on what Capitol people predict will be the approximate scores on all the tributes. Aside from the Careers, no one gets higher than a seven. I was predicted to receive a meager four. Toby was given a seven, along with two other tributes. They are already underrating me. As much as I know I won't score high, I know I can manage at least a seven, on my knives alone. But the fact is that they saw I was skilled enough in several other areas. Maybe I'll get an eight, if I'm lucky.

But then, it's time to show the scores. Vascal, unsurprisingly, gets a ten. Deity gets a nine. Shimmer and Dante both get tens. Hana gets a five, which makes me sad, while her fellow District tribute gets a six. A huge surprise to me is that the girl from Four, Topai, gets only a seven. But the boy, Greyson, pulls a nine. My heart drops even still when the boy from District five gets a five, but Shelley only gets a three. District Six gets an eight and a seven, and District Seven gets two sevens. District Eight's girl gets a six, while Trident pulls a nine. I guess he was right in volunteering for his brother…

And then it's District Nine. My heart is racing, and I'm sure Toby's is too. I know our parents, brothers, sisters, and friends' hearts are racing too. I wonder what they believe we'll get. I sit rigidly as I wait for Toby's number. Caesar Flickerman, in his lavender style still, introduces Toby and reads a score of eight. We all go a little crazy, congratulating him. It's a decent score that will be easy to work with.

But then a hush falls upon us as Caesar says my name. Then my head shot follows, and I look so small… I only hope my number isn't as small as I am. It feels like Caesar has been paused, because it takes him what feels like years to finally get to my score to read it. But when he does, no one expects it.

It's a ten.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Shock doesn't even start to describe what hits me. Or everyone sitting with me. But then there is such a huge cheer that I jump. I feel everyone patting me on the back, halfway hugging me. It's chaos. I hear random phrases break out over the noise.

"That's my sister," Toby says before hugging me.

"Knew you had it in you!" Miriam cheers happily.

"I can only imagine the looks on all the faces of all the other people," Roger says with a laugh.

"They'll be so curious as to what you showed them," Nymal says.

"Talk about a star!" Frandle says.

"I always knew I had a good district!" Deidra says, clearly happy for the good publicity this will make for her.

But after everyone takes a moment to freak out, we settle down just long enough to see the rest of the scores. Ten receives a six and a three. Eleven gets an eight and a five, which throws everyone. Usually kids from these outer districts are lucky to get a six or seven. But Three of us have just blown that out of the water. And then we're thrown again when Ash from Twelve gets and eight also, but aren't surprised when the girl only gets a four.

Caesar Flicker wraps up but none of us listen. We're freaking out about our scores. No one can fully get how I pulled a ten. A ten! The excitement builds in me as I feel overwhelmed with this news. I could stand a chance. Sponsors would see that ten and now think about trusting in me. Maybe I could win this thing..!

We celebrate for the rest of the evening before bed. We snack on chocolates and pastries for dessert, drinking a wonderful drink they call hot chocolate. It's delicious and I drink four cups before I finally get to bed. At first, I just lay there, thinking about how wonderful this day has been. A ten! I can't believe I got a ten! What a wonderful thing! I settle into happy dreams about things with a ten in them.

When I wake, it's to Deidra summoning me to get up and get ready for a big day. That's right. We start getting ready for our interviews today. Tomorrow is when they take place. It's the last chance to secure sponsors and it's the first time the whole entirety of Panem will really get to know each and every one of us.

I quickly shower and dress into a floral dress I find. I'm happy for dresses, because they are my preference if I'm not doing much. Then I make my way out for breakfast, where everyone else is already seated. I sit down and eat sufficiently. Everyone is quiet for a while until Roger finishes and turns his attention to Toby and me.

"Alright, you two. We'll split you up today. Toby, you're going to start with me, Nymal, and Miriam. We're going to pick and polish your approach for the interview. Then you'll go spend some time with Deidra. Truely, you're going to be switched. Mainly because we'd like to know Toby's first before we tackle yours. We'll have four hours for each, and an hour in between for lunch. Sound good?" Toby and I nod, though I'm not sure what could take four hours with Deidra.

I quickly find out. She first has me practice walking in heels with a large, extremely heavy gown on. It takes an hour to do this, because my biggest problem is staying balanced and not lifting the skirt above my ankles. Then the rest of the time is practicing talking, siting up straight, how precisely to sit. Little details that need to be practiced. But by the end, Deidra is smiling. "You'll so look the part!"

We settle down for lunch, then, and eat. It's a quiet affair, but not a tense one. I feel hollow on the inside, so I easily choke down two whole plates of food and several glasses of that wonderful hot chocolate. But then it's time to go talk with the mentors for whichever approach we're going for.

They sit in a half circle in front of me in a small room I've never been in, despite it being on our floor. They all are looking at me, thinking. Finally, Nymal decides to speak out loud. "You definitely look vulnerable. You look like easy prey. You won't be on most of the tributes' radar, especially the Careers. But everyone will have noticed your ten, and they will either know, expect, or wonder. What earned you that ten, no one but us and the Gamemakers know. It's an advantage for you, but at the same time, vulnerable might not be the best approach."

I nod. This is true. But no one says anything else. My mind is going for a while, too, when I get an idea. "Well, what if we combined two traits?"

Miriam smiles. "What's your idea?"

"Well, I look vulnerable. Maybe I should still _act_ vulnerable. With the way I speak or address things. Be sweet. Innocent. Fragile. You know, play the look. But really, I can play one other role too."

The mentors are looking at me curiously. Obviously they get the first part and seem to like it. But they don't see the connection. But I only smile until someone speaks. And it's Roger. "What else could possibly work with vulnerable?"

I let myself laugh. "Well, I've already played this role too." Everyone continues to stare at me, so I just sigh and spit it out. "Fighter."

I see comprehension on their faces, but then confusion. Nymal is the one who addresses it. "Truely, you can't be vulnerable and a fighter."

I smile. "Sure I can. Everyone knows I'm vulnerable by size alone. I'm not strong. I'm from Nine, which means I've never really eaten well. And I have my brother. I'm vulnerable. But, that doesn't mean I'm not a fighter. Like I told you, I started fighting for my life since the day I was born. Maybe I'm a fighter in the sense that I have the most to lose, and I'm determined to fight."

I see understanding sink in. "So you're physically vulnerable, but internally, you're all fight?"

I nod. "And it's kind of true. If I get in a combat situation, I'm gone. They don't have to know about my knife throwing skills. I don't even want to let that be a dependency. I want people to know I'm quick, I'm smart, and I'm strong internally. That I won't let it get to my head. It goes both ways. When my name was drawn, people saw I was brave. That I took it. That even though my sister was killed, I wasn't going to give up yet. I'm not going to give up. But they saw the vulnerability when my brother's name was called. No one has to know that… that it's already been decided who we're trying to save. They just have to have one of my weaknesses. And they already have it. Might as well play on it."

They seem to digest this a little, but then they're nodding. Roger even chuckles. "You know, I like this approach. Basically, you're being you, minus the knives."

I nod. "Essentially, yes."

"Well good. That will make it harder for you to mess up and give you more of a chance to shine. The only big question is how will you sound?"

I know what he means, and it's a hard question. I think a while before nodding. "Sweet, of course. Play it like I'm innocent. Not so lethal. Pretend that all I have going for me is my will to survive."

Everyone chuckles, thinking this is good, but Roger shakes his head. "You need to throw in your temper. Somewhere."

I bite my lip. "Why?"

"Because temper will be a clue to why you scored high. And if you show temper, they know you did something gutsy. Tributes won't see this. They'll overlook you. And most mentors will too. But the sponsors? They'll see it. They like the drama and they'll be willing to invest in you. I want you to play sweet on everything, but one thing. You need to decide what your temper is focused on."

I think for a while, knowing that what set me off last time was the Gamemakers and knowing they were disregarding the tributes. I thought of all the starving kids who couldn't stand a chance. I thought of all the kids who depend on a good score for a chance to survive. I thought about how it's so easy for these kids to be murdered by the Careers, who always get the attention. But it's not until now that I realize that the one thing this is all connected to is Constance.

It hits me like a wall. Was I really that angry? Yes… I was. Because I thought about her and how she didn't get a good score. It didn't matter if she was one of the best interviewed tributes, because she was so easy to love. Everyone remembered her mediocre score. No sponsor would help a six over a nine or ten. And because of that, she died.

I look at Miriam, and I can see it in her eyes that she has just realized with me what my temper was sparked by. I look at Roger and Nymal and sigh. "Constance."

They seem to understand the whole meaning of this. How my sister, only twelve at the time, was the root to all my feelings about the Games. Why I needed to survive, so my parents didn't have to burry a third child. How my younger brothers and sisters couldn't lose a third sibling. Not when so many of them depended on our tesserae. How they'd all starve.

Roger draws this connection when I do. "I want you to make sure your family is talked about. And when you talk about them, show them fire. Show them anger. Show them that fighter. Any other time, I want you to be as vulnerable as a newborn babe in the middle of a lion's den. Don't show that fighter until your family is the center of it. If they ask about your family, don't let the fire come out until it's asked what they mean to you. Then let it consume you. Everyone will see it. And people will have a glimpse at what the fighter will look like when she's in the arena."

I nod, liking this idea. And I knew that this would be what worked. I'd be sweet, innocent, tiny, vulnerable Truely Stellar. All until they mentioned the value of my family. I'd make sure everyone knew that I wouldn't let them starve. I'd not let them be saddened by the loss of two children, two siblings in one Games. One of us was coming home. And I was going to try and make it me.

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Coaching after that was a breeze. We went over tons of scenarios and each time it got better and better. They marveled at how I could be as sweet and innocent as a little child, but turn fiery hot the moment my family was mention. There was no denying I had fight in me, and that no one would forget my interview.

When we finished, we had dinner. No one talked specifically about mine or Toby's approach, but the mentors were confident we had a good shot at having a chance. Or at least, one of us. We all accepted the fact that the objective was to get me through, and that as long as Toby was alive, it was to keep me safe.

That night, we had a rundown of the schedule from Deidra, and then we were told to get some rest. Though, it was too early to settle. I decided to run over everything in my head a few more times before settling down for sleep. Thankfully, I drifted off before nerves could keep me up.

When I woke, it was to Ortega, Lynita, and Trentor hovering over me. "It's time to get you stunning!" Ortega's voice shot so high I thought her vocal chords would snap, but they don't. They allow me to gorge myself on breakfast, but then take me captive.

They spend the morning making me over like they did in the Remake Center on the first day, though it's not quite as long of a process. I'm relieved to have lunch, but then face more of their torture. The only thing they don't do is dress me, which is quite uncomfortable for me. But I lose myself in what the night will bring. I have so much to accomplish.

By the time they finish, Frandle is just coming in. He smiles at their work. "Perfect. This will be just perfect." This apparently is a dismissal and the prep team leaves. Once they're gone, I stand by Frandle's request and he starts to dress me. "The mentors gave me a heads up about what the approach was. Well, let's just say this will suit you nicely." He spends five minutes getting me ready, adding finishing touches before he sighs. "Perfect. Turn and look."

When I do, I am stunned. It's the strangest combination. The dress is white, which makes me feel like a seven year old. My hair left in its natural wavy style, but much fuller. But there seems to be a silvery blue glow around it. No, around my whole being. The whole look makes me think of…

"Stars?"

Frandle smiles. "Gentle, sweet, comforting. Beautiful. But deep down, everyone knows they're a fiery ball. They're the remains of an explosion of things. I think you and stars share more than just a name. Truly." I laugh at the play on my name. But he's right. Me and stars share a lot. Right now, it's a soft glow. Even the tiny diamonds around my neck, in my hair, dangling from my ears seem to glow like stars. Gentle.

"But, the real magic is going to be when you get fiery," he says. I look confused for a moment before he says, "Get angry and look."

I decide to think about the Gamemakers and their indifference, how it was probably this that really cost my sister. And there, right before my eyes, as my temper rages, I seem to catch fire. Nothing really changes, but I seem to be ablaze rather than glowing. Once I smile, it seems to simmer down.

"How on earth did you do that?"

Frandle shrugs. "It was an accident."

I smile. "Lucky accident." I look at the general effect and can't help but smile wider. "This is just what I needed. I think I'm ready, now."

Frandle grins. "Good, because you need to be ready, girl."

Over the next few minutes, it's a frenzy of Frandle trying to get me down to where the tributes gather before the interviews. We meet up with Shanna and Toby first. Toby is in a deep red suit that makes him look much bigger than he really is. And after a while of staring, I realize the color red reminds me that of a pool of blood. And I don't like it. Toby doesn't seem to either, but I quickly realize that this must be a tool to making Toby look more like the one going to win.

On our way down, we meet up with our mentors and Deidra. They practically fawn over me and nod in approval over Toby. But most of the attention goes to me, and Toby seems comforted by that. At first, I'm confused. But then I start noticing the other tributes. None of them do more than just glance at me, maybe offer a look of surprise but amusement. But it's the adults who stare. The ones who understand. The ones who will matter.

When our group is relatively isolated, Toby gets close to me and whispers so only I can hear him. "Don't underestimate your look. People are going to see you. But they need to know you. Lay it on thick. Play vulnerable, but don't let a single person miss the fire."

I look up into Toby's grey eyes and nod. He gives me a small, brief smile before the adults ascend upon us again. Then we're being ushered to be lined up among our place with the other tributes. I stand in front of Toby, since the girls go first in each district. We wait until the music starts blaring, which is our cue to all file out and settle down in our chairs. We can all hear the crowd roaring in anticipation and excitement. It's pure chaos. Through the many screens, I am able to see Caesar Flickerman grinning ear to ear as he greets the crowd. The noise never seems to die down until, apparently, the interviews are starting. I only know this because my eyes find that Deity is up on the stage, talking with Caesar.

Listening to the approaches of each tribute reminds me of how crucial viewpoint is on survival. Deity takes her looks and uses them to her advantage by shooting for sexy. Vascal goes for arrogant but a force to be reckoned with. Shimmer goes for cunning. Dante for an ice cold heart, which is just as lethal as bloodthirsty. Hana from Three predictable: frail. By the time she is passed, I only remember a couple. Cohen from Six comes out with an unsuited thirst for blood. The girl from Seven, Kerla, has a thirst for blood too, but I can't help but feel this is more suiting. Then I remember Trident, and he goes for the revenge side. He is still angered for how his brother was almost "sent to slaughter" as he put it, and that has him fiery hot to do his brother justice.

It's only as Trident's buzzer goes off that I realize that this means I'm up. When Caesar calls out my name, I shudder but get up, shaky, and head out for Caesar. I immediately go for a look of shyness, a little intimidation by the amount of noise exploding around us. But I add the sweetest smile I can muster.

When the audience sees me, they go berserk. But this time, not in their usual way. Almost an outcry. I look so tiny, so young, so fragile, so vulnerable that they seem shocked and almost outraged. I see it in Caesar's eyes too as he shakes my hand. This is exactly what I need. This sweetness, this purity… Even the Capitol people want to preserve it. Now, I just need them to think I can stand a chance in being preserved.

Finally, I can hear Caesar over the crowd. "Truely! Come, sit, sit!" We move over to the chairs and as I settle, I see myself on the screen. And I can see myself just how horrific this must be. I do look so young, so vulnerable. In many ways, I look like Constance was on the inside. I look too good to have to put through this. And not to mention, I literally glow with light.

Caesar brings me back, a kind look on his face. "So tell me, how has your time here been, Truely?"

I plaster on the sweetest, most innocent smile I have, and with a nervous looking glance to the audience, with the real intention of seeing how I look, I find that it's perfect. "Oh! Well, it's been better than anyone could have dreamed! It is so beautiful here, and the people have been so welcoming. I feel honored that I have been able to be here in such a place."

Caesar smiles. "What has been your favorite part?"

I scrunch up my face like I'm thinking really hard. "Probably the food." The audience laughs with Caesar and I let out an adorable giggle. I feel like an eight year old, and in a way, that's a good thing. That means the audience will be affected by the purity. This is exactly the first of what needs to happen.

After the audience laughs, I can see Caesar shifting gears to the topic everyone is dying to hear about: Constance. "Four years ago, you sister, Constance, was sitting in this very place. And unfortunately, she didn't make it. Did you ever dream that, not only you, but your brother would both come here, let alone together?"

I give a sad look. "We all were crushed with Constance's death. It was heart breaking that two of my sisters would never come to know our beautiful sister. It crushed me to know that one of my brothers probably wouldn't remember her. It was horrible having to bury her. We hoped and prayed that we never had to face this again. But sometimes, prayers just don't get answered."

This has a stronger effect than I intend. People cry out in despair and their emotions come out. But Caesar seems to sense that there is something that needs to happen and plows on. "What was the hardest part? At the reaping, especially?"

Bingo. This is exactly what I needed. I go for the kill. At first, I'm emotional. "At first, I thought it was just that my family was shocked. I saw my mother sobbing, my father in tears as well. But I also saw my brothers and sisters. All of them crying. All five of them. Even my baby sister, Beluna. I promised her I'd come home. I held her in my arms and told I'd come back. But then my name was reaped and I had to break that promise."

I shake my head, as if about to be overcome with tears. But then I let it happen. But it's real for me. The anger I feel, the hatred. It was coming out. I just had to display it in the right way… I let the sadness shift to rage. "But then I realized that if my brother and I die, my family is going to starve. We barely get by as it is, and without our tesserae, they won't be able to survive. I can't imagine my brothers and sisters only skin and bones. I can't imagine them hungry. And most of all, I couldn't imagine them burying two more children. My family has lost so much already. There is nothing more horrible than losing a child, a brother, a sister. Nothing. I am not going to let them lose two of us. One of us is coming home."

The last phrase is hotter than the sun and resonated for seconds. And I can tell immediately that I may be small and frail, but that was me throwing it out there for the sponsors that I have fight in me. And I am not to be overlooked.

I can hear the stirring of the entire crowd. They're remembering my ten, I know they are. But I notice how the other tributes glance at my brother. They think I mean him. It makes me want to cry, but this is exactly what needed to happen. I think I have them sold.

Then, my buzzer goes off and that's cue for Caesar to say goodbye. I plaster on that innocent face again, letting the fire change. Everyone has seen it, and the sponsors won't forget it. But I need them to know that I have a plan, a façade. I will fool the others.

I get to my seat in time to give Toby a little nudge. He knows he just has to drive it home. And he can. So easily. Caesar greets Toby enthusiastically. But Toby looks hard-hearted. And I can tell by the look on the audience's face that they are playing right into our hands. They know that Toby is scared for me. They know he wants to protect me. But he already is coming of as wanting to win.

"So, Toby, you've got quite the sister. How hard has it been, knowing one of you will die?"

Toby keeps his face emotionless. "It wasn't hard once we decided who was going to die. Once you're able to clear out that grey, it's easier to focus. But she was right when she said that one of is coming home. That's what Truely wants, and that's what is going to happen." It's then that I see the brilliance of it. This is a loud exclamation that we're fighting to send me home and that I have a shot. But it's so brilliantly masked so that tributes think he is trying to win. They will remember what he said, not what their mentors suggest. And that's going to help us.

"Having decided who is going to die, does it make it harder to live life?"

Toby hesitates on this. He doesn't want to definitively state who is dying. But he needs people to know an answer. "The two of us together is a little strange, now. We both love each other. We relied on each other when Constance died. No matter what happens, one of us will be without our support. And neither of us thinks it's fair. For anyone."

Caesar gives a sad look. "What if, in the unfortunate turn of events, one of you doesn't end up getting home?"

Toby smiles. "See, that's not going to be an issue. Because from the moment our names were called, I had a game plan. And it's bullet proof. I know one of us is going home. One of us will be able to hug our little brothers and sisters again. One of us will be able to relay the other's goodbye."

Caesar looks surprised. "How can you be sure?"

Toby smiles. "I have the greatest weapon that no one will ever think of. It may seem small and insignificant, but it is really powerful. It'll be what wins."

I have to force myself to keep my cool, because this is what sells it. This is the declaration to the whole of Panem that I am the one who we plan on getting home. But by the looks on most of the mentors' and tributes' faces, they don't get that this secret weapon has a name. And that name is Truely Stellar.


End file.
